Borderline Mental
by Sk8er Chica
Summary: Carlos tries to reconnect with a girl from his past. Sequel to Borderline Crazy.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING

A/N: I'm writing this story per the request of **guardianM3, **who wanted a longer story about Carlos and my OC Charleigh Bowdre. Please read and review, folks!

* * *

It was a cool fall evening in Dallas. Officer Carlos Sandoval was relaxing with a beer at C.D.'s Bar and Grill.

"Trent," he said, "I can't get this woman out of my head."

"Who?" asked his lifelong best friend Trent Malloy.

"Charleigh Bowdre," Carlos said with a sigh.

"That Border Patrol agent you met on the Molina case?" asked Trent, knowing perfectly well that was who Carlos meant.

"Yeah," Carlos said, nodding. "The mother of my children."

Trivette, who was halfway through a sip of beer, suddenly snorted, spraying the bar. "What?" he sputtered.

C.D. scowled, noticing the beer all over the bar. "Clean up that mess up, Jimmy!" he scolded, tossing Trivette a rag.

"Carlos, you keep talkin' like that and you're gonna have to arrest yourself," Trent warned.

"I'm serious, Trent, I think she's the one," said Carlos.

Trent chuckled. He knew his buddy better than that. Carlos was a serial dater; the last girl that he was serious about was Betsy Neil, whom Carlos had met their freshman year of high school. Their relationship had lasted a grand total of three months.

"You haven't seen her in over two months," Trent pointed out.

"We were on a job," Carlos said defensively. "It wouldn't have been official conduct to ask for her number."

"Since when have you worried about official conduct?" asked Trent. "You fell for the old broken car routine once and that girl ended up stealing my car."

Doggedly ignoring Trent, Carlos continued, "I figured I'd run into her again sometime, you know, when I was off-duty. I mean, Texas is a pretty small place."

"How much have you been drinkin', son?" asked C.D. He snatched Carlos's half-empty beer bottle away and pointed a finger sternly at him. "You are cut off."

"I'm guessing you haven't seen her yet," said Trivette.

"Nope," said Carlos, taking a handful of peanuts from a bowl. "How am I supposed to find her?"

"I got an idea," said C.D. "You know where she works, Carlos?"

Carlos nodded.

"Well, when you get off-duty, just drive over there and wait for her to come out." C.D. suggested.

Carlos immediately jumped up and walked outside to wait for a cab.

"Isn't that kinda childish?" asked Trent.

"It was a joke, Trent," said C.D.

"I don't think Carlos thought so," said Trivette.

Trent decided to wait around in case Carlos came back. When he finally did, C.D. was getting ready to close up. There was a triumphant smile on his face.

"Well, guys, I did," said Carlos.

"Oh, Lord, you _didn't_," said C.D.

"I did."

"And?" said Trent.

"I missed her. Musta been her day off or somethin'. No worries, I'll just go back tomorrow."

"I don't think that'd be such a good idea, Carlos," said Trent.

"Malloy, I can take care of my own love life, all right?" said Carlos, going outside to get another cab to his apartment. "I'll see you later."

C.D. shook his head. "Whatever happened to a fella usin' the phone book?" he asked.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day after work, Carlos made a run for a remote border checkpoint, the place he had last seen Charleigh. The way he was driving, it was a miracle he made it there at all. He drove around the complex until he found what he assumed to be the employee parking lot. He parked several yards away so as not to draw suspicion to himself. He turned the ignition off and waited. And waited. And waited.

There was not a sign of life in the parking lot the entire time. Carlos wondered if maybe he had been too late, if shifts might have changed long before his arrival. But Carlos Sandoval was not the type of man to give up, especially when there was a pretty woman involved. So he continued to sit across from the lot in his red sports car, willing someone to show up. A couple of female officers came to the lot, but they were both too old and too tall to be Charleigh. Now that he knew people were definitely getting off work, he decided to stick around another half hour or so.

When the half hour was almost over, he spotted another woman making her way across the parking lot. Carlos couldn't say for certain if his waiting was about to pay off as he couldn't see that far very well, but the woman in question was the right age and the right physical type.

"Heeeeere's Charleigh," he said to himself. He leaned forward to get a better look at her and saw that woman's hair was black; Charleigh's, he remembered, was blondish-brown. "Dammit," he swore, realizing his mistake.

Carlos decided to give it one last half hour, then call off the search until tomorrow. His butt was falling asleep, he was developing eyestrain, and it was probably only a matter of time before one of the Border Patrol agents coming off shift spotted him lurking around. Said agent would probably call the police and turn this into a _very_ long night for Carlos. Carlos had seen the jail and didn't really like the idea of spending a night in it.

Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, Carlos spotted a lovingly restored red Gremlin with white racing stripes pulling out of the employee parking lot. The woman driving it looked exactly like his memory of Charleigh. Before he could stop himself, Carlos jumped out of his car and directly in front of what he assumed was Charleigh's car. The female driver honked the horn and screeched to a halt a foot away from him.

"What the hell is your problem?" shouted the woman, getting out of her car.

Oh yeah, it was definitely Charleigh. Same dangerously fiery eyes, same thick hair, same cute little nose. Presently, she was clad in a tie-dyed Bon Jovi T-shirt bearing the artwork from the cover of the album _Bad Medicine, _a pair of baggy khaki cargo pants, and well-worn flip-flops. In the fingers of one hand, she was loosely clutching a rimless pair of shades with square, champagne-tinted lenses.

Carlos unleashed his famous Sandoval smile. "Hi. Remember me?"

"Should I?" she asked.

"Maybe you remember the Molina case. We worked it together a couple months ago."

Really, Charleigh had hardly considered it 'working together.' They had spent a grand total of six hours together, some of which was spent at the local IHOP. Still, she certainly remembered the cute cop from Dallas PD.

"Oh, right!" she exclaimed. "Carlos! Carlos Sandoval, right?"

"One and the same. And your name's Charleigh, right? Charleigh Bowdre."

"Carlos, can you answer something for me?" asked Charleigh, looking very serious. "A couple of friends who work nights told me a drunk guy was dropped off here by a cab around ten and he was asking for me. Was that you?"

Carlos nodded and immediately regretted doing so. Before he really saw what was happening, Charleigh had curled the hand not holding her sunglasses into a fist, drawn it back, and slammed it into his stomach. Carlos doubled over, all the breath knocked out of him.

"And you waited here for me this afternoon? You sick freak!" yelled Charleigh, hitting him in the stomach again, this time with a vicious uppercut.

Carlos coughed feebly, unable to explain himself. Charleigh put her sunglasses on the dashboard and started fishing in her glovebox. Carlos was sure he knew what she was up to; a lot of cops kept a revolver or something in their personal vehicles for protection. He swallowed hard.

"Wait," he wheezed. "Let me explain."

"Explain your stalking me?" said Charleigh, positively spitting with rage.

Carlos winced, praying she wasn't going to hit him again. "I'm not stalking you. Look, I'm sorry about last night. I was kinda drunk."

"My friends said as much."

"The reason I came down here was that I've been thinking about the last time we met," said Carlos, choosing his words very carefully. "We had a lot of things in common. You're an attractive woman and you seemed nice. I just was trying to find you so I could ask you out, you know, like to dinner and movie or something. I didn't know where else to find you, so this seemed like my only choice."

"I see," said Charleigh. "Well, you're cute too. Maybe a little on the weird side, but you seem okay." She scribbled her phone number on the back of an Arby's napkin. "This is to my cell. I'll see what I can do about that date you want."

Carlos's face lit up like a Christmas tree.

Charleigh held up a warning finger. "But if you ever pull another stunt like that again, I won't go so easy on you."

Unconsciously, Carlos rubbed his stomach, which was still smarting from her blows. He'd definitely watch his step from now on. "You know what I really like about you?" he asked as Charleigh climbed back into her Gremlin.

"What?" she asked, pulling on her sunglasses.

"You don't hit like a girl," said Carlos, smiling again.


	3. Chapter 3

The following afternoon at lunchtime, Carlos bounced into C.D.'s. Trent was already there, eating a sandwich at his favorite table. Carlos dropped into the seat across from him.

"I did it," Carlos said.

"Did what?" asked Trent, who was totally absorbed in his lunch at the moment.

"How ya doin' there, Carlos?" C.D. boomed from behind the bar. "You want the usual?"

Carlos completely took the older man by surprise by striding across the room, ducking behind the bar, and giving him a bear hug.

"I owe you one, C.D.," said Carlos, slapping him on the back. "Your romantic advice worked like a charm."

"Romantic advice?" said C.D., a little confused.

"Yeah, don't you remember?" Carlos asked. "You told me that I should go over to where she works after my shift and wait for her. I drove out last night, waited for three hours, but I found her."

Trent abruptly lost his grip on his sandwich, which fell back onto the plate. He shot his friend a brief look of horror. "You seriously did that?"

"Yep," Carlos said proudly.

"Did you talk to her at all?" Trent wanted to know. "Or did you just stare at her through a pair of binoculars?"

Carlos looked offended. "That hurt, Trent," he said, putting a hand on his heart. "I got out of my car and Charleigh got out of hers. She asked if I'd been waiting out there for her. I said, 'Yeah, I was here last too but I didn't find you.' Then I told her she was beautiful and asked if she would go out with me."

"What'd she say?" said C.D.

"Well, she didn't exactly say anything." Carlos admitted sheepishly. "She gave me a good double-tap to the gut."

"You mean she hit you?" questioned Trent, unable to conceal his grin.

"I'm just glad she used her fists on me instead of goin' for her revolver." said Carlos.

"What in the hell was the little gal doin' with a revolver?" asked C.D.

"She's a Border Patrol agent," Carlos explained. Rubbing his midsection he added, "I'm still a little sore. Charleigh's got a wicked uppercut."

"What happened after she hit you?" asked Trent.

"I told her I wasn't trying to stalk her; I was just trying to get a hold of her and didn't know how else to do it," Carlos said. "She calmed down a little. She said she thought I was cute and she gave me her cell number. I'll probably call her later on today."

Trent shook his head and took a sip of iced tea. "The old Sandoval magic," he said with another grin. "Only you could get a girl to go out with you after she'd hit you."

"You make sure you treat that little spitfire right," warned C.D. "I mean it, Carlos, 'cause I got a feelin' that if you break that gal's heart, she's gonna break your legs."


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Carlos did when he got home that afternoon was pick up the phone and dial the number Charleigh had given him. It rang several times, until Charleigh's voicemail greeting came on: _"Hi, it's me. You know the drill._"

"Hey, Charleigh, it's me, Carlos. Call me back when you get this message, okay? Bye."

Carlos hung up, feeling a little dejected and depressed. He tried not to dwell on it; Charleigh was probably still working or something. If she hadn't wanted to go out with him, she wouldn't have bothered giving her number to him. He turned on the TV and started flipping through channels, not really watching anything, just trying to occupy himself. He was just wondering what take-out place he'd order dinner from that night when his cell phone started ringing. Carlos nearly knocked over his TV tray in his rush to get to the phone.

"Hello?" he said.

_"Hi, Carlos." _Charleigh's warm voice echoed out to him. _"How was work?"_

"Not bad. How was your day?"

_"Had to run the 10-yard dash with a couple of smugglers, but that's kinda regular." _Charleigh replied. _"Listen, Carlos, before we start going out, there's somebody you have to meet first._"

Charleigh's words hit Carlos like a mild electric shock. Who on earth did he have meet first? They were both in their mid-to-late twenties, so he could rule out her parents, unless, of course, Charleigh still lived with them. Another, more disturbing thought, occured to him. Did she have a kid?  
If that was the case, he couldn't guarantee how well he'd be able to relate to him or her. Sure, he babysat Trent's younger siblings once in a while, but that was different. He and Trent had been friends since the third grade; he hardly knew Charleigh.

Carlos cleared his throat, and, trying to keep his voice neutral, answered, "Okay."

"_So about that date we discussed, when would that be?"_ Charleigh asked briskly.

"Wow. You're quick to business." said Carlos. "I like that."

_"I'm not **that** quick before you get any ideas_," Charleigh snapped back. "_A date...Let me think for a second...Have you eaten anything_?"

"Uh, not since this morning," said Carlos. "Why?"

"_I thought we could go out to dinner_."

"Sounds good. What time?"

"_Give me half an hour," _said Bowdre, giving Carlos her address.

Carlos scribbled it down on the corner of one of his take-out menus, said he'd see Charleigh soon, and hung up the phone. He ducked into his bedroom to put on a fresh shirt and spritz on some cologne before his date.

Half an hour later, Carlos was standing on Charleigh's porch, holding a single red rose. When Charleigh opened the door, Carlos barely recognized her. She had gotten a French-tip manicure, her hair was down and delicately curled, and her lips were tinted with pink lipstick. Charleigh was wearing a light-blue top that laced up the front _a la _Robin Hood, jeans that really flattered her figure, and flip-flops that showed off her French-tipped toenails.

"You look absolutely beautiful," said Carlos, somewhat in awe.

"Really?" said Charleigh, her cheeks turning pink. "Thanks. You look..." She paused, trying to find the right word. "...hot," she finished. She blushed again, this time at her own daring.

"For that, you get this," said Carlos, presenting her with the rose.

Charleigh accepted it and closed her eyes blissfully as she inhaled the scent. "Do you mind coming in for a minute?" she asked.

"Sure," Carlos agreed.

He walked into the living room and Charleigh shut the door after him.

"Who'd you want me to meet?" Carlos asked curiously.

Charleigh didn't seem to hear him. "Come say good-bye to Mommy!" she called loudly. Nobody came to them or yelled back, so she tried again. "Mommy's leaving! Come give her a kiss!" She waited a moment, then sighed. "That boy is so jealous. Let me see if I can find him."

Charleigh crossed the room and looked behind the entertainment center that stood out slightly from the wall. "You big silly," she said in a tone Carlos had never heard from her before, an almost gushy one. "You trying to hide from me? Come on, sweetie. Come say hello to Mommy's new friend."

_'What kind of kid hides from his mother behind the entertainment center?' _Carlos wondered.

Carlos got quite a shock when Charleigh stood up and turned around. Instead of a child, Charleigh's arms were clamped tightly around a fat gray tabby cat, which was wearing a blue collar around its neck and a grumpy expression on its face.

"Sweetie," she said to the cat, "this is Mommy's new friend Carlos. Carlos, this is Tubbs."

"Hey, Tubbs, how ya doin'?" Carlos asked, reaching out a hand to stroke the cat's head.

Tubbs let out a guttural meow. Carlos was no cat expert, but it didn't seem like a friendly sound.

"I'm sorry," Charleigh apologized. "He's usually a good boy. He just gets nervous with strangers." She scratched the cat behind the ears and cooed, "Don't you, Tubbsy?"

Tubbs purred, but let out a guttural noise again when Carlos tried to touch him.

"Please, don't make that noise, Tubbs," Charleigh said, almost trying to reason with the cat. "I won't be gone very long."

Tubbs wriggled out of Charleigh's grasp, hit the floor, and hid beneath the couch.

"Be good," Charleigh warned as she picked up her purse and took Carlos's hand in hers.

"I'll bring her back by midnight, Tubbs," Carlos promised with a chuckle.

Tubbs hissed.

* * *

"So," Carlos said once they were in his car, "are we going to IHOP again?"

Charleigh shook her head. "I'm not in the mood for pancakes tonight. I'm thinking Italian or Mexican."

"Either one's fine by me," said Carlos. "When did you get the bodyguard with fur?"

"I've had Tubbs for six years," said Charleigh. "I guess I forgot to mention him the first time we met." She paused, then asked, "Is he gonna be a problem? Are you allergic? You didn't look too happy when you met him."

"As far as I know, I'm not allergic. I wasn't unhappy; you just kinda took me by surprise. I mean, the way you were talkin' on the phone, I thought you had a kid."

"I don't," Charleigh assured him. "I'm not quite ready for that yet. Tubbs and Radar are my babies for now." Radar was the contraband-sniffing canine she was partnered with on Border Patrol. "You have any pets?"

"Me? Nah. My landlord doesn't allow it. I doubt I'd have time for one anyway. I'm hardly ever home."

"That's too bad. Everybody needs someone friendly to come home to, even if that somebody _does _have four legs and a tail."

Carlos pulled into the parking lot of his favorite Mexican restaurant, a little _mami-y-papi _place called Casa Fiesta. Charleigh got out of the car and they started to walk up to the door. Carlos held it open for her when they reached it and they went into the lobby. The hostess/owner Maria smiled as she recognized Carlos, who was a regular.

"Hello, _Senor_ Carlos," Maria said with a smile. Her eyes traveled over to Charleigh. "She is not the woman you came here with the last time."

Carlos felt himself going red in the face. He stammered out that he wanted a table for two and Maria led them to one next to the register.

"How many women have you dated?" Charleigh asked, a bit of bite in her tone.

"Um, this month, this year, what?" asked Carlos.

"This month will do," Charleigh replied.

"Four," said Carlos. "I broke up with the last one right before I met you. What about you? How many guys have you dated?"

"What?" she said. "How is that your business?"

"You asked me that," Carlos pointed out. "It's only fair that I can ask you too."

'_God, this is going to hell in a handbasket,' _he thought. Strangely enough, Charleigh was thinking the same thing.

Carlos tried to smooth it over. "Let me go on record and say you're much prettier and nicer than the other four. Okay?"

"Fine," Charleigh relented. "But let _me _go on record and warn you that you're kind of on thin ice with me right now."

"I'm sorry," Carlos apologized. "I really am. Let's just relax and have a couple drinks and get to know each other."

"I'm sorry too," said Charleigh. "First dates just really put me on edge."

"Want a chip?" Carlos offered, pointing to the basket of chips and salsa that had been deposited on the table.

Charleigh dipped a chip into the salsa and popped it in her mouth. When the waiter appeared, Carlos ordered a Dr. Pepper and Charleigh ordered a Mexican soda. They got sillier and sillier as the sugary drinks began working their way through their systems, telling each other jokes and laughing hysterically. A few patrons gave them strange looks on their way to pay their checks. Before Charleigh and Carlos realized it, the chip basket was empty.

"Damn," said Carlos. "Now I don't have any room for dinner."

"It was the damn chips," Charleigh said. "Those are addictive; they should be a controlled substance." She was on her third soda and speaking very fast. "But hey, there's always room for dessert, right? We could split something."

"Great idea!" said Carlos. He waved the waiter over to their table. "Can we get an order of fried ice cream and two spoons, _por favor_?"

The waiter came back with it in about two minutes. Charleigh and Carlos dove into the dessert.

"Man, my stomach hurts," Carlos groaned, setting down his spoon after a few mouthfuls. "I think I ate too fast."

"Or too much," Charleigh suggested. She felt a little ill herself, but definitely still giddy. She was beginning to like Carlos and didn't want the evening to end just yet. "Want to go see a movie?" she asked as Carlos paid the check. "I've been dying to see _Rush Hour 3, _but I haven't been able to find time."

"Sure," Carlos agreed.

They drove across town to the movie theater. Being that it was 10:00 on a school night, there were very few people at the multiplex. Charleigh and Carlos made up a third of the audience at the showing of _Rush Hour 3_. They both had a great time and could hardly stop laughing. As they made their way to Carlos's car, they sang "War" while imitating Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker's dance moves.

"This was the best first date I've ever been on," Charleigh said happily as Carlos walked her to her front door.

"Me too." Carlos agreed. "But I probably better let you get some sleep so you can go to work tomorrow."

"Yeah, you need sleep too." said Charleigh.

"Good night." Carlos leaned in to kiss her. Suddenly, a furry face appeared in Charleigh's living room window. Though Carlos couldn't hear him, he could tell Tubbs was yowling by the way his mouth was open. "Ah, can it, Tubbs." Carlos said quietly.

Charleigh kissed him, then slipped into her house.


	5. Chapter 5

_One month later..._

A tarp crinkled under Trent's feet as he padded slowly across the floor at Thunder Karate. He dropped to his knees and used a screwdriver to pry the lid off a fresh gallon of white paint, which he poured into a tray. He had closed the studio for several days to spruce it up a little. Summer meant lots of parents would be dropping by to check out karate lessons as a possible summer activity for their children, and Trent wanted to be sure the studio looked fresh and clean; first impressions were everything.

Trent whistled merrily as he pushed a roller up and down the wall. He was painting at a pretty good pace, but the studio was huge; he wasn't even halfway through. The job would be a lot easier if he had somebody helping him, his sixteen-year-old brother Tommy, for instance; however, Tommy had to attend summer conditioning for his school soccer team every day. Maybe Walker or Trivette would be willing to give him a hand when they got off work...

A sudden burst of noise broke into Trent's thoughts: grunting, panting, something heavy scraping against the doorway of the entrance, and muttered curses in Spanish. He turned to see his best friend Carlos shoving a tall cardboard box into the lobby of the studio. Trent had gone to the sporting goods store earlier in the morning to pick up the punching bags he had ordered; even though it was his day off, Carlos had volunteered to help Trent move them from the bed of his pickup truck into the school.

"That took awhile," Trent remarked, using a paintbrush to go back over a spot he had missed with the roller.

A few snappy retorts came to mind, but Carlos was too out of breath to say any of them. It had been hard enough getting the box out of the truck without damaging either; trying to get the thick box through the studio's narrow front door was a little like trying to cram a fully grown elephant into a pony trailer. And there were still three more punching bags to bring inside, which would mean three more struggles in the brutal Texas heat. As Carlos pushed his sweaty black hair off his face, he glanced longingly at the fan that was keeping Trent cool.

"Hey, how 'bout lettin' me do that?" said Carlos, gesturing to the roller.

"If your painting is anything like your handwriting, forget it," chuckled Trent. "Say, how many of those bags did you get in here?"

"One," Carlos replied. He could sense Trent wasn't exactly thrilled with him, so he added, "Gimme a break. It's like a sweat lodge out there."

Trent turned to glance at the clock on the wall opposite him. It was quarter to 2:00, though it seemed to Trent less time had passed since he'd started painting. His back and shoulders were beginning to feel a bit stiff. Carlos was massaging his side, presumably trying to get a stitch out of it. Trent decided they could both use a break. He retrieved two bottles of water from the mini-fridge in his office and tossed one to Carlos.

"So," he said, joining his friend in the lobby, "who's the lucky lady experiencing the ol' Sandoval magic this week?"

Carlos took a long drink before answering. "Charleigh."

"How long have you been seeing her?" asked Trent.

"Just about a month."

"That's pretty serious for you, Carlos."

"Well, Charleigh's different than my other girlfriends." Carlos explained. "Not only is she smokin' hot, she's really smart and funny."

"You meet her parents?" Trent wanted to know.

Carlos shook his head. "Nah, not yet. They live outta state, New Mexico, I think."

"You bring her home to Mom?"

"Trent, if I do that, she'll start askin' us when we're gettin' married and what're we gonna name the kids..." He trailed off. "I don't think any of us can handle that yet."

"Look, not to put you in a tough spot or anything, Carlos," started Trent, "but I gotta ask ya something. If this girl's so special to you, how come I haven't met her?"

Carlos just shrugged; he really didn't have an answer. Trent hoped he hadn't hurt Carlos's feelings or made him feel uncomfortable. His best friend was a lot of things, but quiet wasn't one of them. He cast around for something to say to break the awkward silence. He settled on: "So tell me more about Charleigh."

"Well, she's a cat person, has this fat tabby named Tubbs. Loves her, can't stand me." said Carlos. "And I can always tell when Charleigh's getting stressed out 'cause she starts baking a lot."

Trent raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't having to clean the kitchen make her even more upset?"

"No. She thinks it's relaxing. I don't really get it either." Carlos paused, grinned, and added, "She is good at it, though. Makes the best damn brownies I ever tasted."

"You should have her bring some to Walker and Alex's 4th of July picnic," Trent suggested.

"Yeah. Maybe the ones with marshmallows on top." His stomach started to growl at the very thought of Charleigh's special-recipe S'mores brownies. "You hungry, Trent?"

The blond nodded. "I could eat."

"Let's go grab some wings from that place across the street." said Carlos, tossing his empty water bottle into the trash.

Carlos and Trent left Thunder Karate. They'd come back later in the afternoon to finish moving the bags and do some more painting.


End file.
